


Everything I Own

by twriting



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types, Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Clark Kent is now a college student named Cantrell, Female Clark Kent, Female Dick Grayson, although somehow the sidekicks got dragged into the whole rule 63 business as well, blame vyndktvx if you need a reason, but Batman and Wonder Woman and the other older heroes are all their usual sexes and ages, but Dixie Grayson is the only sidekick in this story so don't worry about it, synopsis for those who haven't read the rest of my au and don't want to:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22824514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twriting/pseuds/twriting
Summary: "Oh, did I neglect a local courtesy? Please allow me to introduce myself; I am the Grand Marshal and Tyrant of the Imperial Infinite, and Supreme Commander of the Warworld. I am Mongul. And I am the new manager around here. Naturally, I shall need time to settle in and adjust to your many interesting customs. I know, for example, that your society makes distinctions on a basis of gender and age. Perhaps then, you could advise me... Which of you would it be polite to kill first?"
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

June 2022

"Colonel Flagg, thank you for contacting us."

"You're welcome, Princess Diana. To be honest, our teams aren't having much luck with this situation."

Colonel Richards Rogers Flagg jr doesn't have much of a sense of humour, a situation he blames on being the third man in his family to be stuck with the name Rick Flagg, but he does recognize humour when he sees it. The Gotham vigilante Batman having a teen sidekick is not fucking funny.

But orders. Princess Diana of Themyscira is to be allowed full access to the site, along with whatever consultants she needs to bring along. To be fair, 'Wonder Woman' is one of a handful of people in the world with any personal experience in this level of madness, and Batman is Superwoman's... Friend? Colleague? Well, they're connected somehow.

But a teenage girl in green and red armour? The entire world is slowly going insane and Rick Flagg isn't ready yet to be that grumpy old cuss at the barber shop complaining about how nothing those fool kids do makes sense no more.

Colonel Flagg leads the three through the series of isolation tents around the Metropolis Museum of Natural History. The museum's Neo-Classical facade is covered by plastic and surrounded by tubes, and access is controlled by military teams in grey NBC hazard suits. Navy SEALs from the Metropolis base were the first military responders, so the museum itself is under SEAL guard.

"What it looks like," Colonel Flagg replies to the princess's question, "Is some sort of plant that has attached itself to Superwoman, placing her into a coma. A sealed canister appeared in front of the museum about three hours ago with that fool Vartox's name on it, and Superwoman was called in to examine it. When she opened it she was attacked by this plant. That's when the local police finally called us in to control the situation. President Finch contacted me with orders to allow you access to the site, since Superwoman's associates are the closest things to experts we have on alien life forms."

"A sound decision," the princess replies with the confidence of someone born to wealth and power. "Please tell your president Themyscira shall render assistance to Lady Kala."

Leading the princess and her _consultants_ through the guard posts at the museum's doors, Colonel Flagg can't help but notice that she has promised absolutely no assistance to the United States. Well, this level of diplomatic bullshit is above his paygrade.

The wide doors open into the museum's grand foyer, now crowded with recording equipment and medical gear and bright lights. Aside from military medical staff there are guards in NBC gear throughout the room, and at the top of the stairway leading up to the next level. The so-called Dark Knight of Gotham looks around the room and Flagg can practically feel his displeasure at all the cameras and witnesses. Good.

Colonel Flagg escorts the three to the centre of the room, around a series of privacy screens. "We have medical reports. Basically, she's fine. Just completely non-responsive."

One final layer of screens and equipment. Behind the screens stands the Superwoman, eyes staring blankly ahead at nothing. An empty canister lies at her feet, and the thing from the canister has latched itself over that famous emblem.

The thing looks almost like a cluster of purple roses, with sharp red tongues growing from the heart of each bloom. Dark woody tendrils grow out from the bouquet, wrapping around Superwoman's chest and neck. According to the doctors there are filaments growing out from the tendrils, piercing Superwoman's clothes and even her skin. Flagg refuses to see for himself. He's not putting his face anywhere near something that can cut through that hide.

The emissary from the invisible island of bloodthirsty lesbians steps forward, her hand stopping just short of the purple and black parasite. "What is it? It looks like it's growing into her, through her clothes."

The teenage girl looks back and forth between her mentor and the paralyzed Superwoman. "But... But she's Superwoman."

"Robin, examine the container. Don't touch it. Diana, lets check her condition."

With Robin the goddamn teen sidekick kneeling to inspect the open canister, Batman stands next to Princess Diana to examine Superwoman. They begin with the basics, respiration and pupils. Avoiding the tendril wrapped around the base of Superwoman's jaw, the princess checks her neck artery for a pulse.

"Can you feel it?" Princess Diana holds her hands near the bloom. "It has a trace of magic in it. That must be how it penetrated her skin."

Colonel Flagg steps forward, next to - and he cannot say it enough - Robin the goddamn teen sidekick. "First responders didn't recognize most of the symbols, but she said it was something called Interlac. The only thing in English is Vartox's name."

Batman makes a hm noise. Throught the voice distorter it comes out as a rumble. "So it was a gift? Teleported here as another attempt at courtship." He looks up past the plant, to Superwoman's face. "Or someone wanting you to think it was from Vartox. It may have been labeled as a gift from him, but he's demonstrated too much understanding of human and Kryptonian biology to make such a simple mistake."

A deep growl of a voice comes down from the hall's stairway. "How remarkable. You animals really are almost intelligent, aren't you? That's exactly what happened."

In the time it takes Colonel Flagg to put his hand on his pistol, Batman is already between Superwoman and the stairwell. They both look up to the source of the voice.

And how the fuck did something like that escape both a police and Navy SEALs sweep of the building? Broadly human-shaped. Easily eight feet tall and nearly half again as wide at the shoulders, with a leathery yellow face like a cartoon caveman and dressed in a purple and blue union suit, torso crisscrossed with a metal harness.

The fireteam supposedly guarding the upper landing has belatedly moved into position around the hulking figure. The creature looks down at them with something on its face very much like a smirk. "Are those projectile weapons? How quaint. I assure you, when I am in charge you will be issued far better."

Ignoring the fireteam it walks calmly down the stairs, placing its broad feet carefully. As it draws near the group in the grand foyer, strolling past the surrounding SEALs, Colonel Flagg sees details aside from its size that separate it from humanity. Only four digits per hand. Skull too blocky. Neck tendons too thick. But its body language is obvious. The creature radiates utter arrogance.

Up close that union suit and harness outfit is made of something like leather and steel. The creature looks at Superwoman and rubs its hands, clad in purple and gold gauntlets, in a bizarrely human gesture of anticipation. Between Superwoman's Kryptonian onesie, whatever the hell it was Vartox had been wearing, and now this, Colonel Flagg is starting to think Earth is the only world in the galaxy to develop anything resembling a fashion sense.

Batman breaks the silence as the creature approaches. "Robin, eyes."

The kid starts moving back towards the door, not turning away from the brute now looming over her mentor and Princess Diana. The princess moves a bit to the side, as though trying to evade the giant. Colonel Flagg recognizes a set-up.

"Custom armour and equipment," the creature rumbles. "I'm pleased to see they've finally brought in the elite. It was far too easy to outwit that rabble earlier."

Larger and more heavily armoured than the princess, more obviously a threat, Batman doesn't move at all. "What is that creature?"

Keeping his hands down by his sides Colonel Flagg takes advantage of the distraction to send the team around him a few quick signs. Carefull not to move too quickly, they start to take controlling positions around the room.

"Do you like it?" The creature's English is lightly accented but otherwise excellent. It's voice doesn't match the movement of its mouth. "It's called a Black Mercy. I travelled a great way into the Tangled Zones to locate it. Oh, and please signal the little grey creatures to stop shuffling. It distracts me." The brute peels off its gauntlets, revealing broad yellow hands. Its forearms are encased in some sort of metal harness, somewhat like the one across its chest. "It's something between a plant and an intelligent fungus. It attaches itself to its victims in a form of symbiosis, feeding off their bio-aura."

"Symbiosis. What does it do for them in return?"

Looking down on Batman, a cruel smile twists the creature's face. "Why, it gives them their heart's desire. I'd say that was fair, wouldn't you?" In an almost kind gesture, it puts a finger as thick as Flagg's forearm under Superwoman's jaw. "It's telepathic. It reads their minds, and it feeds them a logical simulation of the happy ending they desire. Of course its victims could shrug it off... But they don't want to."

"Why have you done this?"

The cruelty almost fades, the expression becoming reflective. "Kryptonians. As tough as Daxamites, without their pathetic sensitivity to lead. They might have been gods, but they chose isolation. How short-sighted of them. They deserved extinction."

Dropping its thick gauntlets to the floor, the creature steps back from Superwoman and looks down at her. Appraising. "First rumours from surveyors that a sole Kryptonian might have taken refuge on this aborigine backwater. Then reports from salvagers of a planetary champion capable of driving off Brainiac. Remarkable. What an opportunity." It bares its teeth, eyes bright with excitement. "Once my technicians work out how to extract the marrow from her bones, I'll have an army that not even the Guardians will be able to stand against."

 _Daxamites. Surveyors. Salvagers. Planetary champions. Guardians_. If anyone survives this, Colonel Flagg reflects, the recordings of this conversation will be an absolute treasure trove for the backoffice analysts.

Batman continues his questioning. "What are you?"

It seems almost genuinely apologetic. "Oh, did I neglect a local courtesy? Please allow me to introduce myself; I am the Grand Marshal and Tyrant of the Imperial Infinite, and Supreme Commander of the Warworld. I am Mongul. And I am the new manager around here. Naturally, I shall need time to settle in and adjust to your many interesting customs. I know, for example, that your society makes distinctions on a basis of gender and age. Perhaps then, you could advise me... Which of you would it be polite to kill first?"


	2. Chapter 2

It's a beautiful bright day in Metropolis and all is right with the world.

Cantrell Kent thanks her gyno's office yet again for calling her so quickly and finally hangs up the phone. Of course she has already used the home pregnancy tests, but having it confirmed by a lab means she can call her parents.

The morning sun glows through her curtains, warming Cantrell as she sits half dressed on her bed. She's halfway ready for work and will probably be late if she doesn't move fast. Still absorbing the news from her doctor, Cantrell rises and grabs her pants. Dark business casual clothes with a plain blouse, leaning more to the 'business' side. The Daily Star has a relatively relaxed dress code but Cantrell prefers to error on the side of caution. Unlike a certain ginger maniac, Cantrell is responsible for her employer's public image.

Dressed, ready, courier bag hanging from her shoulder, Cantrell steps out the door. The hallway is blurry and too intensely bright and Cantrell realizes she's forgotten her glasses. She ducks back inside and puts them on, leaves again, and realizes she has forgotten her keys. Cantrell steps back inside, closes her apartment door behind her, grabs her keys, and does a slow methodical search of her bag and patdown of her pockets.

She just can't imagine what she might have been distracted by.

Boy or girl, it's far too soon to tell. But Cantrell Kent bets her child will have beautiful bright eyes just like their parents. (Speaking of, things still seem a little unfocused. Maybe she should get her prescription updated.)

Finally she's ready. Outside the sun is already warming the streets and the air is fresh after last night's rain. First she'll tell her parents, obviously Lana next, and then she can tell everyone - Pete, Lex, Ava, Chloe, Brad, Lori, Jimmy, Kristen, Sally. After that they can spread the word. But absolutely first of all, she needs a taxi because otherwise she'll never make it to work on time.

She can't stop smiling. It's a beautiful perfect day and all is right with the world.

She is content.


	3. Chapter 3

Metropolis's morning traffic fades into the background. Cantrell is barely even aware of the driver's attempts to chat with her, giving no more than basic answers. She can't stop fidgeting in her seat and she has to fight a constant grin.

Should she text her parents? No, this is better done by phone. Maybe at lunch. Or maybe after work, because Cantrell thinks she's probably going to be an emotional wreck after that call. She might even blow some bandwidth on a video call, because she wants to see their faces again and this is the best possible excuse for that.

It's such a perfect day the taxi can actually drop her off right in front of the Daily Star's building on 36th. Cantrell knows she's overtipping but what the heck. Smiling and waving too enthusiastically at the people at the security desk, bouncing on her feet on the ride all the way up to the 36th floor, Cantrell leaves behind her a wake of people wondering when she is going to quit because she has obviously won the lottery.

Not exactly running late but a little bit behind her normal schedule, Cantrell greets her coworkers and slides into her cubicle, where she has to resist the urge to spin in her chair. She fires up her workstation, checks the morning emails, replies to the one that seems important, and then hits send on the piece she edited last night.

Laurel, Kara, Mia, Linda?

Conner, no no no, _Clark_. Mom would like that. She might not get along with her brother but that doesn't mean her family isn't important.

Clark if it's a boy. What the heck, Clarke is a good name for a girl too. Clark(e) Kent- ~~~~~~~.

Cantrell's so out of it she almost forgets the meeting in room 36. Grabbing her laptop and a couple of papers from her desk, and a coffee from the kitchenette, she walks fast down the hall and opens the meeting room door just in time to see Richenda, who is usually the last to any meeting, sitting down.

At the front of the table, leaning back in his chair and flipping through a stack of print-outs, George Taylor looks up at Cantrell. "What are you grinning about, kid?"

Cantrell says hi to the other people around the table and grabs the seat closest to the door. "Oh, good news from my family. Nothing I can go into yet."

"Good news, huh? Well, the world can always use more of that."

Nothing important gets said for the next few minutes. Well, lots important gets said, Cantrell just has to struggle to adjust her priorities. Mr Taylor follows up on a couple of things about Parker's Hob's Bay article, discusses timing of Kenson's article - there's a municipal election coming up and the sooner they run this the better - and then starts handing out assignments. Chigusa gets a follow-up on the state sales tax question on top of her usual budget reports, and Cantrell...

Media baron Morgan Edge's STEM foundation has graciously extended a last-minute invitation to Edge's competitors to attend the opening of a new science centre in east Bakerline. The event begins at noon and media is expected to be there at eleven. New girl Cantrell Kent gets to spend her afternoon trying to get some decent quotes and pictures out of the crowd,

Cantrell's not about to argue. The Star might be the number three operation in Metropolis, but being number three behind the Daily Planet and WGBS is still two steps ahead of every other news group in the country. The only reason Cantrell has a job at a place like the Star is because George Taylor took a chance on a new grad, so if he wants Cantrell to pay her dues with stories like this she'll do it.

She'd almost majored in social work, before changing her mind at the last minute and giving up on a scholarship. In her second interview Mr Taylor had asked what sent her into journalism in the first place.

"Well. When I was a kid I wrote a couple of articles for the Sentinel. Nothing big but I was really proud of them. And the editor took me aside and said they were good, and I obviously cared about the community a lot, and someone like me who really wanted to make a difference for people should think about being a social worker. He wasn't the first one to say something like that. And being a bit over-socialized, I almost didn't argue."

"Nice small town girl, huh?"

"Not any more."

"Welcome to the news business, Miss Kent. I have a feeling you'll do just fine."

* * *

The new science centre on 36th Street looks as though it were built from giant Lego pieces, all brilliant colours and chunky sections. The recently finished building still gleams, its glass and steel pristine under the sun. A crowd churns in the plaza, cheering and applauding at the right places but clearly waiting for the donors to finish their speeches.

Cantrell Kent works her way through the crowd, smiling at the kids brought in and asking them about hobbies and interests at school and how they got their invitations. STEM kids, obviously, and genuinely excited to meet a member of the infamous Smallville HS robotics team. There are door prizes, and contests, and snacks for the kids, and by the end of the day Cantrell figures at least 20% of them will be sick from overexcitement. The kids give some great quotes, and talking to them brings in their parents, and that in turn draws in the politicians. Cantrell makes notes and takes pictures until they open the doors, and then she stands back and lets the mob of kids and families flood in to the centre.

Following behind, she greets a couple of competitors from Edge's own WGBS and Newstime brands. Cantrell doesn't see anyone from the Planet, but given that they're Edge's toughest competition in Metropolis that's not a big surprise. Councillor Tobias Whale is here, and a man Cantrell recognizes from the governor's office. Head of the governor's council on education in STEM, but Cantrell can't remember his name. George Taylor will want quotes from both. Cantrell looks for the nearest bundle of black school kids, sees a group in the uniform of last year's state science competition, and starts working her way towards them. Councillor Whale will be here for a photo op soon enough. Then Cantrell can worry about tracking down the other man later.

First though, the kids.

* * *

The physics display is amazing, a room full of curving walls covered with displays of the elements and their uses. In the corridors between the walls are interactive displays and models of the periodic table. Cantrell's favourite is a display laid out as a spiral galaxy, with bands of colours that let you see the relationships between the groups. Cantrell chats with a girl about the differences in the tables and how they present information, and then they talk a bit about the availability of advance placement science classes in Bakerline's west side schools. After the girl's classmates call her away for a contest Cantrell moves further into the elements exhibit.

She finds her way to the display of noble gases, a brilliantly lit hallway lined with glowing signs. Each gas is trapped in a series of tubes spelling out its name, and below the display are sliders that let you control the intensity of the light in each tube. Cantrell stops in front of element 36, Krypton, and plays with the sliders for a while. The intense green light of glowing krypton holds her attention for a minute, until Councillor Whale walks into the hall surrounded by a group of families.

As Cantrell approaches, the albino councillor puts on a pair of thick sunglasses. He smiles as Cantrell introduces herself and as he shakes her hand he makes a quip about how bright the future is. Cantrell thinks about her own future and smiles more brightly than the joke is worth and asks the councillor if this will effect his vote on Metropolis's city university system. Not at all, the councillor replies, the MCU system has always had his full support. The families, mostly the kids, are starting to look bored so Cantrell thanks Councillor Whale for his time and they shake hands again.

As she watches them leave Cantrell sighs. Councillor Tobias Whale is an effective city councillor and an advocate for programs that have lifted hundreds of families out of poverty and he is also as corrupt as they get. Cantrell is going to genuinely regret it when Lane's investigations for the Daily Planet take him down.

As she leaves the noble gases exhibit Cantrell notes that the krypton display now glows an intense white. It's proper colour, of course. She's not sure why she'd thought it was green earlier. Must have been a trick of her eyes. Probably excitement and hormones.


	4. Chapter 4

God she's crying. Mom and dad are crying too. Cantrell flaps her hands at the screen and grabs a tissue from the box she put by her laptop because she knew she'd need it.

It takes a few minutes but the three of them get themselves under control. They talk about due dates - too soon to know, she still needs to set up an appointment - names - it's a surprise, she tells them, mostly because she doesn't want mom to start crying again - and the inevitable dire warnings of the sleepless nights ahead of her.

Martha Kent calls her a quiter. "Doing it the old fashioned way, huh?" Mom shakes her head in mock dismay. "Back in my day we suffered through months of hormone treatments, mood swings, probes, and migraines. And we liked it. Kids today."

"Yes mom, everyone under seventy is terrible."

"Wiseass."

Mom wants to know about names again and Cantrell gives in, so of course mom starts crying. Well, so does Cantrell. She gets herself under control but mom has to step away from the computer for a minute. Cantrell sniffs hard and asks dad how he's feeling.

"Getting better every day," Jonathan Kent says. "That last surgery was just what I needed. I always promised you I'd dance at your wedding, and I'm more than fit for it. Now, about your end of the deal... "

"Daaad." Cantrell laughs. "Soon. I promise."

Mom comes back and tries to talk, and the next thing you know she's crying again. Jonathan and Cantrell both roll their eyes in the same way and Jonathan leans out of screen to rub Martha's back. They agree to talk again real soon, and dad says bye Cantrell and mom makes a happy choking noise and they finally log off.

Well that was something. Mom is usually the most levelheaded person in the room. Normally it's dad who gets all sentimental.

And well, speaking of fathers. Cantrell picks up her phone and calls him. No answer. He's probably out with his family. She sets her phone aside.

After a minute she picks it up again. ~~Something's wrong.~~

Cantrell opens her contacts and scrolls down the list. She can't shake the feeling there's something missing. She scrolls up and down again and frowns. Under 'W', there's a name missing. Someone from work?

* * *

She is content.

She _is_.


	5. Chapter 5

Normally Cantrell likes the coffee at the Bulrush Cafe but today she can't stand the smell of it. The bitter scent of coffee makes her stomach wobble. She gets a mint tea with her veggie sandwich and finds a spot where she can watch traffic on 36th Ave.

Cantrell finds a seat next to Len, an elderly man she knows from the neighbourhood. Len is a friendly old man with a high nose and heavy lines on his narrow face. The son of a tailor, he still dresses like he's in the business and today he has a dark blue suit with a striped tie. On his small table, his laptop plays an old episode of Star Trek.

Cantrell has her phone out and is watching highlights from the senate investigation into Lord's DoJ interference in court cases. Trying to watch. The smell of coffee is still playing tricks on her stomach and there's an old fluorescent light flickering above her table.

Len pauses his video and looks over to Cantrell's table. When he sees what she's watching he says _hmph_. "Now I'm not saying that Leonard Nimoy was one of the Lamed Vav, but you have to admit things went to hell for a few years after his death. He dies, and less than a year later we get President Maxwell fucking Lord. Pardon my language."

Cantrell laughs. She could use a distraction from her stomach and the light right now and Len is a good guy to talk to. "My dad said lots worse when Lord won. Refused to even say his name after that, just called him the forty-fifth occupant. Who are the Lamed Vav?"

"No idea. That's the point." Len grins at her. "You haven't heard that one, huh? Old Jewish legend. The Lamed Vav Tzadikim, the thirty-six righteous ones. A bunch of ordinary humble people going about their lives, good people who help their neighbours and lead righteous lives that keep the world in balance. They've got no idea they're special, and neither does anyone else, but without them the world falls out of order. And if you ask me, not that you did... " Len taps the screen, frozen on an image of a young Spock.

They chat about Star Trek for a bit, and the conversation wanders back to Lord and President Finch, and then back to the Lamed Vav. Somewhere in the meandering conversation Cantrell notices an oddly refractive shadow across her table, shaped almost like a K, and she glances at the window.

"The window is cracked."

"There's a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in."

And then Cantrell asks him about the Lamed Vav again, because she likes the idea of ordinary decent people being responsible for the maintenance of the world. So far as she's concerned, without ordinary folks the world would fall apart. Len goes a bit into the significance of the number 36, which goes over Cantrell's head. Something about the numerology of the Hebrew alphabet, which she does ~~n't~~ know.

"It's a nice coincidence too. There's the Lamed Vav, the hidden thirty-six, and then there's krypton the thirty-sixth element."

"I don't get the coincidence?"

"Krypton is from the old Greek word _kryptos_ , hidden."

"Huh. Okay, that's actually kind of cool."

The old fluorescent light isn't just flickering, it's actually glowing a sickly shade of green. The light is giving Cantrell a headache.


	6. Chapter 6

It's a beautiful bright day in Metropolis and ~~all is right~~ something's wrong.

"Mom, what happened when Brainiac showed up?"

"Who, Cantrell? Are you sure you're all right?"

All the lights are green.

"I... but, mom, I - oh God, Rao help me." She's crying. Over the phone she can hear mom crying. She's making her mom cry. "Mom please, I know this won't make sense but... You're my mother. You're my mother and I'll always love you. Always. But mom, I don't think you're real. I don't think any of this is real."

"Cantrell, please, you're scaring me."

All the world is green.

"No, no, I don't want to scare you, mom. This... this is everything I ever wanted in a life... But I've got responsibilities, and I... have to go now."

~~She is content.~~


	7. Chapter 7

The voice is harsh, monstrous and inhuman.

It is a voice she didn't know she had.

" **Burn.** "


	8. Chapter 8

Princesses should not be this fucking heavy, even if they are Amazons. But Wonder Woman is six feet of muscle and that ceremonial armour may not cover much but it is leather and steel. Dragging the princess across the burnt wasteland of the museum's plaza, Rick Flagg vows that if she survives this he will retire to that nice quiet barbershop and spend the rest of his days watching TV and bitching about the world.

The museum isn't a firezone. The museum is on fire and the merely human forces, the Marines and SEALS and National Guard, are in full retreat. The alien Mongul spent a few minutes casually beating Wonder Woman half to death, and then a voice like armageddon screamed in rage and half a second later a jackhammer as big as the world slammed into Mongul and a four hundred mile an hour wind blew out all the windows.

Muster point three includes concrete barriers and APCs for cover, for all the good it will do anyone. As twin beams slash through what's left of the museum's roof and scorch the air, Colonel Flagg dumps Princess Diana on the park ground and tries to sum up the situation:

Museum: On fire and collapsing, as two brutes try to murder one another.

Military response teams: 30% casualties in a matter of seconds. No dead yet, all accounted for in the retreat, but a third of the forces in the museum, armed or otherwise, were taken out of the battle just by being too damned close to the first few punches.

Princess Diana: Unconscious. And... sinking down into the ground. Bruises healing as the soil creeps up her exposed skin.

Batman: Unconscious. Still not recovered from his exposure to the Black Mercy. Being handed over to a medical team right now.

'Robin': Unaccounted for.

" **GET UP, YOU VERMIN. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU DID TO ME?!** "

God: Pissed off.

A voice like a bursting mortar roars in outrage and the ground shakes. Something erupts through the side of the museum in a cloud of concrete dust and arcs out into the side of an APC. Briefly embedded in the armour, Superwoman snarls in a voice that can be heard clear across the lot and into the park. She rips herself free and Colonel Flagg can see bruises and cuts healing across her face.

Mongul drags itself through the hole in the museum wall. Even with half it's chest scorched down to open muscle, it still manages a sneer. "I fashioned a prison that you could not escape without giving up your heart's desire. It must have been like tearing off your own arm... And now I'm going to kill you anyway."

Superwoman's eyes glow white-hot. The two figures tense, ready to launch at one another again.

"Excuse me!" A voice calls down from the ruined facade of the museum. "I think this belongs to you!"

A dark floral bouquet arcs down from the front of the building. Colonel Flagg sees Mongul flinch, an instant of indecision, torn between the need to defend itself against an enraged Kryptonian and whatever new threat is coming from above.

And in that instant the Black Mercy latches on to its new host.

Robin leans out from behind a shattered concrete balustrade. "'Almost intelligent', huh?"


	9. Chapter 9

Superwoman sits on the batcave's diagnostics table, fastening her cape back over her shoulders. Batman frowns at three pages of printouts, all of which say she's fine. He's in worse shape than her. Still physically drained, shoulders and chest still peppered with the needle-wounds from the Black Mercy's tendrils. Superwoman tells him there's nothing in the shallow perforations to suggest any infection, terrestrial or otherwise. He is still going to prepare a course of antivirals for himself.

Dixie sits on an office chair, cowl back and mask off. She hasn't stopped smirking since she took down Mongul. Sometimes she hums as she spins in the chair.

Exposure to the growing soil of the park healed Wonder Woman's injuries. Now she leans against the wall of the medical bay, scuffed armour the only sign of her battle. This is the first time she has seen the cave and she is absolutely delighted by it. "Of course you have an underworld," she'd said as he led her in.

Down in the cave's lower level sits the phantom zone projector, guarded by the robot that brought it from Superwoman's Fortress of Solitude. Would-be conqueror Mongul... is nowhere.

Superwoman is still as she describes her hallucinations, speaking only in broad terms. She hardly moves. Her eyes are active, wandering to Batman and then off again. "I think most of it's victims don't last very long. Batman is in incredible shape, and look how hard a few minutes of exposure hit him. So the dream doesn't have to be perfect, just good enough to keep the victim distracted while it drains their energy."

Diana folds her arms and nods. "So you recognized the flaws in the dream?"

"No." Eyes skittering off him again, Cantrell's hand drift towards her abdomen. She pauses mid-gesture, then lowers her hand to her lap. Before last summer Diana had never met a pregnant woman. Bruce wonders if she recognizes Cantrell's aborted gesture. "I felt the flaws. There were people missing, elements of my life missing because - "

Because in her perfect world, the Bat of Gotham would never have approached ordinary first-year student Cantrell Kent.

In his perfect world, Bruce Wayne grew up in a life of calm luxury, and the Wayne Foundation caught Gotham before it could fall into corruption and madness, and he never met Richenda Grayson.

Dixie sits, mask off and cowl back, watching as Cantrell tries to explain careers and school to an Amazon princess. Is this worth it, Bruce wonders. The loss, the pain and confusion, the sheer terror. Without any of it he would never have met Dixie. Is this worth it?

He's surprised by how obvious the answer is. Yes. Because this new family doesn't make up for the loss of the old, but he would never be in this place without the path those deaths set him down.

Bruce has taken Dixie through his family cemetary and shown her the headstones. He should take her back and introduce her, properly, to her grandparents.

"You didn't grow up in this society," Cantrell says to the princess. "There are a lot of pressures I don't think I could explain to you." Cantrell and Dixie meet each other's eyes. There's a bitter half-smile of recognition between them. "People kept telling me what a good social worker I'd be, or a nurse, I cared so much about helping people, and I was adopted so I understood the system. After a while it just started to seem like the obvious choice."

He can tell from her patient smile that Diana doesn't really understand. He probably doesn't fully grasp it either.

"B." She still won't look directly at him. "I hate to ask, but... Any chance I could arrange a student loan?"

He could give her the cost of tuition about as easily as most people could give a friend twenty dollars. He doubts she'd appreciate a gift.

"Yes. What do you have planned?"

"I'm changing my major. Journalism. But that means I'll lose my scholarship. I guess I'm being selfish, but I think this is something I need to do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Large chunks of dialogue for this are taken from 'For The Man WHo Has Everything', both the original comic written by Alan Moore and the later adaptation for Justice League Unlimited.
> 
> The line "The voice is harsh, monstrous and inhuman. It is a voice he had not realized he had." is from Elliot S Maggins's 'Miracle Monday' novel. Maggin's Superman books are fantastic introductions to Bronze Age Superman, and are available here:
> 
> http://superman.nu/thebook/lsok_contents.php  
> http://superman.nu/thebook/mm_contents.php  
> http://theages.superman.nu/MiracleMonday/
> 
> The line "There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in." is from Leonard Cohen's song 'Anthem'.
> 
> In the original comic FTMWHE, Pre-Crisis Jason Todd/Robin takes down Mongul by dropping the Black Mercy on him. In the animated version there is no version of Robin around, and Wonder Woman gets the duty of stopping Mongul. It's a great cathartic moment after Mongul spends a lot of screentime punching her around, but I've always liked the ending where the physically weakest person there takes down an opponent stronger than Superman by using its own weapons against it. Very trained-by-the-Batman.


End file.
